Robert Fripp
The Fillmore, San Francisco, USA 09.06.05

You know you should wear your helmet when you ride your bike, right? I'm amazed how many people don't. Especially here in San Francisco, where if the cars don't kill ya - the hills will.

My wheels got caught crossing the tracks of the N Judah a few years ago. It slapped me down on the pavement pretty hard. And even though I was okay beyond the bruises, my helmet grazed the street for a moment. That moment scared the bejesus outta me.

But I fall good. Never broken a bone. The trick is not to brace. Simply collapse. Crumble. Fall and take the fall like the fallen you are joining. I am speaking from experience, having fallen a lot in my day. I'm what is known as a tall drink of water and I grew in great pubescent spurts. Three whole inches one summer. That's 1/4" per week. Ouch.

This time of year back home in the country, you can actually hear the corn grow. At the right time. On a quiet night. Really. Hear it. It creaks. Like my bones did back then.

That night, at The Fillmore, Mr. Fripp brought us all to a quiet place where you could hear corn grow. His loops grew and gathered mass and flourished. They fell repeatedly without disaster and got up quick and grinning.

Copyright © 2005 Alice Kenner